


Pressed

by kt_anansi



Series: Smutty Garcy Fics... [9]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate season one ending and season two beginning (I suppose), Attempted Murder, Canon Divergence, Drabble, F/M, Fake Marriage, First Kiss, How will they get back to the present? idk thats not my problem, I am just here to chronicle the emotional angst, Murder for hire (sorta), Rittenhouse is manipulative, Sex, Smut, Trust, because I guess thats how I garcy, just something I thought of and wrote about, not really much of a plot, sucidal thoughts, they make out- so that's a plus, trying to get over writer's block
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-09 16:36:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18641929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kt_anansi/pseuds/kt_anansi
Summary: "If his life was worth saving, then her heart was worth protecting."





	1. An Unlikely Assassin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deathbypastry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathbypastry/gifts), [kissedbydragonfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissedbydragonfire/gifts).



> Dedicated to my Garcy friends: especially the two its gifted to!
> 
> Can't go wrong with some good 'ol Garcy smut... and its been awhile since I have done anything in their own universe... so yeah. Here ya go! Enjoy!

Lucy enjoyed the feeling of a breezy California day, as she stood under the trees. Overheating a little, she unbuttoned her pink peacoat. Lucy felt her stomach twisting in knots just thinking about meeting up with him,  _Garcia Flynn._ During the last few missions, she felt that she had truly begun to connect with him. She couldn’t lie to herself there was a part of her that, deep, deep down, wanted to stay in contact with him... and hell, maybe even more than that. But here she was, thumb drive in her pocket, waiting on the man who had ultimately and utterly turned her life upside down.  

“I guess he isn’t showing, is he?”  

Lucy turned around at the sound of Agent Christopher’s voice, “It’s not like him... He wants to know who killed his family. I think something happened to him...”  

“Probably, Lucy. And if it’s Rittenhouse, it’s probably worse than getting arrested.” 

“What?”  

“You think I could just let you consort with a terrorist, Lucy?”  

“Oh-  _Oh, my god._  You were going to use me?”  

Staring at Agent Christopher, Lucy felt sick. She was bait- again. She was a pawn for Flynn’s arrest.  _Oh, how dare-_  

“I have to go,” she seethed, “I- you will get my sister back, and then I never want to see your face again.”  

The bite in her voice felt like a slick and silky poison dripping off her lips; Lucy couldn’t remember ever being so angry. Turning on her heel, she walked and walked, needing to clear her head. As she passed an alleyway, she was suddenly pulled back by her coat. Instinctively screaming, a hand flew up and covered her mouth. It was too small to be Flynn’s. Nervous, she opened her eyes to see none other than her mother in front of her. 

“Mom?” she asked, seeing her mother’s face and her eager eyes looking at her. The hands on her coat release her, “What’s going on?”  

“You have to come with us... Something’s happened.”  

“What? Who is-” Lucy was cut off when Emma walked into view, “You- where is Flynn?”  

“In a cabin in the woods... Far, far away from  _here and now_.”  

“What did you do to him?” 

“She did what she was told to do by our family, Lucy,” her mother said, as she raised her chin proudly, “what she was told to do by Rittenhouse.” 

Lucy felt as if the wind was knocked out of her. How could _... what? Why?_  

“That’s right Princess,” Emma said with a sly smile, “it’s time to earn your crown.” 

 

* * *

 

“I don’t a have a choice Flynn,” Lucy said, holding the gun against the back of his head. The man shifted slightly, but didn’t turn around, “It’s the only way they’ll let me get my sister back... it’s the only way to get my life back.”  

“Lucy,” he uttered her name calmly, sweetly even, “there is always a choice, you reminded me of that when I forgot. I could have left you in the woods to die, but I didn’t, I chose to save you.” 

Finally, he turned around. His eyes were wet with tears unshed; however, his face was otherwise smooth and calm, “Lucy... if it will get your sister back, then do it. I have nothing left, no hope of getting my family back, no hope. of anything other than hiding out here in the past.” 

To Lucy’s shock, he pressed his head against the barrel of the gun, “It wouldn’t be so bad, maybe Iris will be on the other side.”  

Slowly, his hands rose and crowded over hers. It took a moment for Lucy to realize, he was working his way toward the trigger. She wanted to stop him- she had to stop him.  

“You can tell Emma and your mother that you did it. But I don’t want you to lose yourself. Your innocence, your soul. I don’t want you to lose it all because of me, so, let me do it, and you can go.”  

 “I- I...” Lucy choked, as Flynn’s finger idled dangerously over the trigger, “I can’t. I can’t let you-”  

“It’s okay, Lucy. What is it they say? “Live by the sword, die by the sword?” Well, I’ve lived by the gun, It’s a deserved fate.”  

“ _No!"_   

The sound of her voice yelling outside of herself surprised her. Shoving the gun aside, she fell into a crumpled heap in the snow. She could feel the snow burning her hands as she tried to dig into the cold earth. She wanted to combust, “What- what have they done to me? This isn’t...  _this isn’t me._ I’m supposed to help you.”  

Pulling her hands out, she buried her face in them. She wept until her voice turned raw, her throat achy, and her eyes pulsed with anguish. Once she was spent, she became vaguely aware of Flynn picking her up, and taking her inside the cabin. As her limbs grew heavy, and her heart numb, she drifted away.  

 

* * *

 

 

It’s wasn’t the first time Flynn had carried Lucy into this cabin. In fact, just a week earlier he had found her drugged, lying face-down in the snow. Her lips had been purple, and she was almost blue.  

He should have known it was a trap- in fact, he did suspect it. But he didn’t care. He couldn’t- there was no way she was dying on his watch. So, he carried her back to the cabin that he had managed to make quite cozy. It had a roaring fire, various animal pelts he had used to make blankets and rugs. With a bit of creativity, Flynn had managed to make himself a warm, comfortable home. But it had been lonely, maybe that was why he let his guard down. 

Seeing Lucy, it gave him hope again. He thought maybe she was there to help him. As she thawed out, it was clear that wasn’t the case, she spent a few days staring guiltily at Flynn. Finally, she started asking questions... The questions were about everything. Lorena, Iris, the journal, São Paulo (which was news to her). She even read some of the journal she had written.  

This- Emma being Rittenhouse and taking him back to her cabin to leave him for dead was not in the journal. Nor was her stealing the Mothership. Flynn wasn’t surprised when Lucy held the gun against his head, after all, if Emma had dropped her off, she had to have been with Rittenhouse, right? What surprised him was the fact that she threw the gun. She broke- crying into the snow. The woman who had been so strong, so intelligent, she had one too many traumatic experiences. She lost herself in the woods that night. Flynn watched her cry, scream and beg God for help, for understanding. All the while, his heart broke for her. 

And it terrified him, feeling something other than anger. Even something as tiny as empathy, as benign as feeling concern, scared the shit out of him.  _How could Lucy make him feel again?_  

Hearing her stir, he lifted his gaze from the fire, and found her staring at him, “Flynn, I-”  

“ _Don’t._ Don’t apologize... I know Rittenhouse, and this definitely wasn’t your idea, I can tell,” focusing on his task, he spooned some soup into a small bowl for Lucy and handed it to her along with bread, “I made us dinner.” 

“I tried to kill you- and you’re feeding me?”  

“Well, you didn’t kill me... so there’s that,” he said it with a smile, while she stared blankly at him. They find a solace there, eating in silence, watching one another. It was odd, the woman had just tried to kill him, and yet, he trusted her still. What was it about Lucy Preston that always made him so...  _stupid?_  

“Why didn’t you?” Flynn has to ask, “kill me, I mean.” 

Lucy finished her soup and set her bowl down on the bedside table. Walking over to Flynn, she knelt down and looked him square in the eye.  As the fire illuminated her face, Flynn could see every feature of it. Her deep, dark brown eyes, her seemingly smooth and ageless skin, the exhaustion that hung in her expression. She raised her hands tentatively as if asking for permission. Flynn nodded, and Lucy reached out to cup his cheeks, “You have always looked at me like I was your last hope. When you told me to kill you... I realized that you were mine, too.” 

As she held his face, Flynn shuddered. He felt the air between the two of them shift, “I don’t expect you to forgive me, or forget what I tried to do today. But there is a reason I picked you for the journal, isn’t there? I could have picked anyone... Wyatt, Rufus... But I picked you. In a way, you’re my responsibility. Trading your life for Amy’s, she would hate me if I did that. I would hate myself for it- there has to be another way.”  

Flynn couldn’t take her gaze, overwhelmed he stared at the ground, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was in Lucy’s best interest to save him. 

“Believe it or not, Garcia Flynn...  _You are worth saving._ I forgive you for everything- really, everything you have done has been because of me. I just hope you can forgive me. I was weak.” 

Taking her hands in his, Flynn lowered them. That fondness he felt for the woman came back to him, giving in, he held her hand and leaned forward. Reverently, he placed a soft kiss there, “there is nothing to forgive, Lucy. We all have our moments. I more than most.”  

Lifting his eyes, he found Lucy looking at him with a strange expression on her face. He couldn't breathe when she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. It was sudden and soft, and he was undone. She pulled away slowly, while her cheek grazed his. The pair made eye contact for just a moment before she leaned in. Pausing just before his lips, he could feel her breath mingling with his.  Nervously, his tongue ghosted over his bottom lip. Then she kissed him softly, before continuing and opening up more to him. He couldn't help but respond in kind- it had been a long time, too long, and this was doing things to him. 

“Lucy,” he mumbled trying to push her back slightly, but she wouldn’t have it. Her hands were like embers, setting his skin ablaze as they took new territory. Giving in, he smoothed his hand over the alabaster skin of her cheek, her neck. As his fingers loosened her hair, the strands fell out of their hold, and onto her shoulders. This went on until she rose up on her knees, and Flynn followed- resting her forehead on his chest, she began to reach for his pants- her fingers lingered on the ties that held them up. He realized what she was doing and stilled her hand, “Lucy, I’m not sure we should.” 

The woman looked as if she had been slapped. Before Flynn could say anything, she scrambled back to the bed, hiding her face in the covers. It was strange, watching her... He felt that he knew her, but he had no idea how to fix this... how to make it better. Laying down, Flynn willed his body to settle down. Lucy had left him wound up, and there was no way he could do anything about _that_ in here, with her in the room. And there was no way he was sleeping with her when he knew she would just regret it in the morning.  

He refused to take advantage of her and be one of her regrets. If there was one thing he wanted to do correctly, it was just that, he wanted to love her the way she deserved. He desired to let Lucy in, and he wanted her to let him in. Turning to face her, he watched as her ribs rose and fell with each breath. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that she would ever kiss him again or want to kiss him again. But, if she did, he would make sure she felt safe, whole, and loved.  

_If his life was worth saving, then her heart was worth protecting._

 

 


	2. Playing House

As it turns out, Flynn is rather merciful.  

He doesn’t push Lucy to talk, just as he doesn’t kick her out of his cabin. These are good things because Lucy is mortified and has nowhere else to go. Although the kiss (okay, the make-out session...) was amazing, she can’t bear the chance of another rejection. There are two things she is certain of at this point: Flynn will never, ever want her like that, and he takes care of her because he is a good man- not because he wants to.  

So, she tries to stay out of his way, and he seems to do the same. 

Despite being his burden, she tries. Lucy really tries to make his life easier. She takes to dusting, cleaning, doing laundry, emptying the chamber pot (she gets used to it), and preparing meals. Anything that takes a sophisticated amount of cooking, Flynn takes care of. But he has taught her a little bit here and there. Enough for her to make soup or meat by the time he gets back from hunting or gathering wood. Despite the attempted assassination, they ease into a routine and get along fairly well. 

Then, she says she’s his wife.  

It happens in the middle of February when someone from the village accuses Flynn of stealing (being a foreigner, and a mysterious outsider, Flynn is obviously a target). When the Sheriff comes over, Lucy fixes tea and biscuits and hangs back nervously as the men speak. As Flynn starts to get angry, Lucy follows her instinct and interjects.  

“ _What my Husband should tell you_ is that he was here with me the entire day. You see, we are newly married,” Lucy smiles, laying her hand on Flynn’s back and rubbing it lightly,  _“We are hardly separable, Sheriff.”_  

Flynn chokes for a second, but recovers quickly and smiles up at Lucy. There is a fondness there in his eyes, one that she hadn’t seen since the night she was on stage with Houdini.  

“Ah, well. I think Mrs. Jenkins must be mistaken then.”  

“We do hope you find the person that robbed her, if we see anything suspicious, we will let you know,” Flynn stands up and shakes the officer’s hand.  

“Thank you, Mr. Flynn. It was lovely to meet you, Mrs. Flynn.” 

“Of course, I look forward to getting to know the community better. Please, feel free to take a biscuit for the road.” 

When the sheriff leaves, Lucy lets out a ragged breath. She can feel Flynn eying her, his gaze always makes her warm.

“That was close,” she says as she moves to the fire to start the soup for the evening. 

“What made you say you were my wife?” 

“Well, it gave you an alibi. I doubt he would have thought I was your sister,” Lucy laughs, “and last I checked I don’t look like a two-bit whore, and you don’t look like someone who has to pay for sex. So, wife, it is.”  

Realizing all that she had said, she feels her cheeks start to burn. As she sneaks a look at Flynn, she sees him leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. He looks incredibly amused, and Lucy isn’t sure if she wants to slap or kiss the grin off his face.  

“Well, I suppose I ought to get you a ring? If we are playing house.”   

Now it’s Lucy’s turn to choke, she didn’t expect that, “Are we?”  

“Well, I assume you have nowhere else to go? And I don’t either... so, it makes sense. It affords us both some stability and it will protect you.”  

The way he says the last part, it’s tender and kind. As if that has been a worry of his. As Lucy looks at him, she sees something in his gaze that she can’t place. It’s not adoration or respect (she knows what that looks like, she has seen so many times from him already) it’s more _affectionate._   

“I, Uh... I should go get more firewood,” Flynn says, as he gives her one more look-over.  

“Yeah. I’ll stay here. and do this.”  

As he leaves Lucy feels her cheeks burn with embarrassment.  _I’ll stay here and do this? What was she thinking?_  

The wind began to whistle and shake the trees before sunset. Lucy briefly opened the door to see if she could spot Flynn, but he was nowhere to be seen, while large white flakes covered the woods. As the snowfall turned into a storm Lucy got more and more worried,  _where was he?_  

Lucy found that she was unable to sleep, due to being lost in her worried mind. Flynn didn’t make it back until the middle of the night. When he pushed the door open, a cold blast of air and a burst of snow found their way into the cabin. Flynn had a little bit of wood, but not much. He was white with frigid cold.

“Are you okay?”  

“The storm... It came on suddenly. I dropped the wood...” He shivers beneath his layers, and Lucy can tell it’s bad.  

“Here, sit,” she offers the rocking chair by the fire, and quickly puts some water on, and stirs the soup. Grabbing the basin, she puts hot water in it, and lets it cool to a tolerable temperature, “Flynn, I’m going to take your shoes off, okay? We gotta warm you up.”  

He nods, although he has a faraway look in his eyes. Lucy slowly unties and takes his boots off, then she pulls his socks off, too. Carefully, she sets one foot after the other in the warm water. Shortly after contact, Flynn shivers and sighs. Moving on, she gets him a bowl of soup, “Do you think you can eat?”  

He nods, and Lucy puts the bowl in his hands, “Just hold the bowl and warm up, I’ll help you.”  

So, she feeds him. Halfway through the soup, Flynn seems to regain his ability to speak and to function. He asks for the spoon and thanks her. Without ceremony, she grabs clean socks and warms them by the fire. Flynn watches her as she grabs a towel and dries his feet off. She then helps him put on the warm socks.  

“You didn’t have to-” 

“And you didn’t have to help me when you found me in the woods in December, did you?” Lucy smiles, “But you did. And I am helping you... because you were right.” 

“How so?”  

“We are quite the team. Maybe not in the sense you thought, but we need each other here, don’t we?”  

Flynn’s expression shifts a little, he looks a little perturbed, but Lucy doesn’t press. She sits next to him until he finishes eating, then she gets up to prepare the bed. 

“You take the bed tonight, you need the covers,” she insists. 

“Lucy, I couldn’t. You'll freeze.”  

He isn’t wrong, and she knows that. She was prepared to use his coat to keep warm, but he didn’t know that. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“No, get to bed, Lucy,” as she looks from him to the bed and back, she knows he won't let it rest, she won't win this argument, so she changes tactics. 

“Fine. You get in, too.”  

“What?” 

“You heard me. You’re still five degrees from being a popsicle. So, get in bed, Flynn.”  

He stares at her, dumbfounded. After regaining his senses though, he smirks and shucks his coat. Lucy feels her cheeks begin to burn as he makes it bit of a show, stripping down to his long underwear. Even though she did him the courtesy of looking away, she can’t help but steal a glance. She feels her heartbeat quicken, and her stomach knot, as she realizes that;  _yes, Flynn is incredibly attractive- and no, she has absolutely no idea how she will handle this situation._  

Once he is in the bed, Lucy unties her dress and takes everything off but the shift.She climbs into bed as gracefully as possible. Once she is in, she tries to adjust the pillow and get comfortable, to no avail. Within an instant of her sigh, Flynn turns and gently lifts her head, tucking his pillow underneath her head.  

“I, uh, don’t need it,” he says as Lucy realizes that she has grabbed his forearm out of reflex, and is digging her nails into his skin. She knows the reflex is a product of her time with Rittenhouse. She had been confined, tortured in various ways and broken down. But there is something about his touch that is... okay. So, she soothes her hand over him, as if to apologize, and hears him suck in a breath. Flynn's hand is still on the back of her head, as she takes a chance and scoots under him. She can see that he is breathing rapidly, as his eyes darken with need. She wants to tell him she didn’t plan for this to happen, but as his free hand gravitates to her waist, she doesn’t want to scare him. She knows Flynn well enough to know that he can be moody, temperamental, and any sudden movement could make him run for the hills. 

She is fully under him now. Taking a breath, she runs her hands up his arms, to his shoulders, and then settles on the nape of his neck. Her stomach flutters in surprise when he moves to kiss her first. He places a soft kiss on her cheek, and then his lips drop to the dip in her neck. Her breathing picks up in anticipation, his lips are warm on her flesh, and he is so close she can smell him. He carries an aroma that is a mixture of cedarwood and his natural scent, which Lucy finds rather intoxicating. Turning to one another, his gaze travels to her lips, and then back up to her eyes. Lucy has never been more thankful for their ability to silently communicate- because if she had to speak right now, she is certain she would get stuck in her throat. She can feel her chest expanding and contracting against his, and then something snaps. Suddenly, their lips are mingling as their heads twist and turn and their mouths open to one another, letting the other in deeper and deeper.  

This time when Lucy reaches down to touch him, he doesn’t stop her. Instead, he groans and whispers her name as she pets him from the outside of his garment. She enjoys the sense of power this gives her, while he ruts into her hand. However, her fun is put to an end when he nibbles on her ear and tells her he can’t take it much longer.  

She unbuttons his long underwear just enough to free him. Once that is done, he plants his knees between her thighs and moves her shift up quickly. The warmth of his legs against her inner thighs excites her. It isn’t until he explores her with himself that she realizes just how sensitive and wet she is. As the head of his cock touches her clit, her back arches and lets out a sultry moan as she grips his shoulders hungrily. He follows her encouragement and shifts a little before he enters her.  

His thrusts are deep and thorough, and Lucy can feel the heat building in her bones. While their breathing becomes more labored, she begins to thrust against him. When he drags his pelvis against her clit, shock waves rip through her and she can't help but moan as she wraps her legs around him. She clings to Flynn as if begging without words for him to be closer, deeper, for him to become a part of her. Soon, their movements quicken as the coil of pleasure winds tighter and tighter. When it snaps, Lucy lets out a cry, as Flynn swells and spills into her.  

Much to her own surprise, Lucy finds the wherewithal to clean up. When she gets back into bed, Flynn pulls her close. She thinks it odd that she feels so comfortable, safe, and whole with him. It was something she had never had with anyone else, and it made the events of the last months a bit easier to bear.  

As if sensing her thoughts, Flynn tucks her closer to himself, and kisses her on the forehead, “sleep, dear.”  

“Mhmm,” is all she can say as she snuggles into him and the darkness of sweet sleep pulls her under.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the muse allows there will be another chapter about feels and what not.


End file.
